But the thing Sam loves most of all, is to crash into the waves of Lake Huron searching for the tossed stick. His sole mission is to rescue that floating piece of wood that is headed out to deeper waters.
While Sam patiently waits on the count of three, he attempts a final jump to grab the stick. But it is hurled far into the air, out into the crashing waves, and Sam instinctly flys off on another mission to retrieve and return.
The shores of Bayfield, on thiswarm summer’s eve, enjoys a gentle breeze, just enough to send those rollers into shore, creating an “easy, peaceful feeling”.
Alas, fearless and determined, Sam pounces from a roaring wave, destined for the safety of the shore; the stick has been retrieved from the rolling waves of this wondrous lake.
It is said that if Lake Huron was pouring over the United States of America that it would be nine feet deep, coast to coast.
Don’t tell Sam this…
I wonder how many lives this lake has taken, how much history lies within its boundary, and what it was like a few hundred years ago when white man rarely travelled upon the lake. There is history here, not duly reported, at least not yet. Shame…Being adventurous and brave, curious and just plain snoopy, Sam loves to roam to sniff out new horrizons. Every now and then, while getting a tad off course, Sam comes running back to see where we are, to touch base with familiarity. The cement barriers are here to keep the high hills that tower over the shore from caving into the lake, however they do create such an eye sore.
It is a shame that the town of Bayfield, the government of Ontario, and anyone else do not stand up to the plate and do something to bring back our natural heritage; to bring us back the land that once was. Clear of broken bottles, bent cans, and typical refuse on the beach; this inclues the God awful barriers that are either rusting steel structures or cement barrels that look more like sower portals – how about at least the cement or stone structures of Stonehenge to depict something such as the Druidical temples, rather than Ed Norton’s workplace.
Sam is in training…loving the waters ever so, blind to the sureal surroundings he snoops about. But what about us, are we in training? Are we planning something for the future generations? Garbage soars, litter abounds, emmisions choke, while we move ahead in the auspiciousness notion that we are doing the right things at the right times, but are we? We post signs, we enlist laws that are rarely enforced, we pretend to care about recycling our garbage, however we continue to do more harm than good. Why? The sun sets tonight, as it always has, but for how much longer? Will it always look this wonderous in the sky?
We must stop ruining our planet in the euphemistical name of “progress”.
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